THE BEAUTY OF BEGHA

It all started with a Gumtree ad that caught my eye.  My gap year was far from over and new adventures were waiting to be explored.

Being the adventurous person that I am, or perhaps more gypsy-like as my friends say, it came as no surprise when I bid my family farewell yet again and hit the road early one morning in May.  I remember thinking at the time that Cape Town was showing signs of winter and, for those who do not know the Western Cape in winter, it’s cold and wet and miserable. 

It was with some amount of anticipation that I started my 1,000+km journey to a small village on the sunshine coast of the Eastern Cape, to take up employment for a couple of months.  

Begha is a tiny seaside village situated on the banks of the Birha River, 50 km from Port Alfred, on the road heading towards East London.  The community consists mainly of holiday homes and cottages situated in a nature reserve, with rolling sand dunes, endless beaches, indigenous plants, varied bird and wild-life and sunsets that are beautiful, wondrous, even mesmerizing.  It is as near to paradise as it comes!

I was welcomed by Babs, my host for the next few months.  Of course, it took a couple of ups and downs to find my feet and nestle into my new living situation.  But, once Babs and I connected and shared some whiskey and wine, the two of us were on a roll.

Life in Begha goes by slowly.  For me, gone were the N1 and N2 and the noisy, congested traffic of Cape Town.  Now, no sirens and alarms, no fighting neighbours and barking dogs, no rush to meet a deadline or reach a destination.   Begha caters to the soul and the body just naturally smiles for the attention.  Yes, the body does very well under the Begha sun and in the Begha surf, as it’s revitalized from within.

Isolated, peaceful, serene and remote are just a few words I can think of to describe this piece of heaven.  Or is it paradise?  The difference is hardly worth knowing and less so worth distinguishing.  Just being so near to nature without the interference of the "outside" world, compels one to just enjoy the moment.  And, I had more than several of those to enjoy.   

Begha . . .

makes you want to just stand still and listen to your own breathing…

makes you see and appreciate the beauty of earth as it was meant to be ...

makes you realise how hectic the rat race really is...

makes you confront your inner self and take a long, good look...

Living a simple life away from it all or returning to the hustle and bustle of city life and its challenges is one of the topics of conversation you have with yourself.

Begha, being the sort of place that it is, it is also Babs’ home.  And, although Begha is "away from it all"’, Babs’ house is like a railway station.  People come and go all the time.  She has been part of Begha for many years and is not just widely known for her beautiful garden and her extensive knowledge of plants, but also quite popular amongst her friends, family and the locals.  Whether they pop in for coffee or linger longer and stay for a while, people are welcome in Bab’s house, where the door is always open and her hands ready to give

I have met so many lovely and interesting people during my stay in Begha:

Lynn and Dave, two of the few permanent residents of Begha.   From time to time I had the privilege of taking care of Sparky, their beautiful cat. It was, of course, love at first sight when I stroked his back for the first time.

With Edith and Derrick, just down the road, I took long walks on Begha’s beautiful beach and they showed me the art of picking up oysters.  It was a first for me.  Being an oyster lover, and only knowing these delicious morsels as something served on ice by a waiter or chef; picking them up seaside amounted to nothing less than moments of pure joy.

Robert and Maureen are amiable neighbours. Robert encouraged me to write and tell the world about Begha, whilst Maureen and I exchanged women talk while strolling leisurely beachside. Thinking back on Robert’s encouraging words about writing, I wonder if Robert could only imagine how much words usually fail me when I need them most.

My list of new friends is long, but I have to mention just a few.  Michelle, Laurie, Stacey, Dianne and Steven.  Diane B, Lily, Irene and the lovely Lulu and her late husband, Wicus.  Jo and her family and Jackie, the art lady, they will all be kept in a little red box near to my heart. 

The staff at Leach Pharmacy, Bagman, KNA Stationeries, Vodacom,  where Lecinda had to listen and give me advice on my endless internet complaints,  Funky Fings, Buco, the hardware store, and a few more. They are all so different than staffs in stores in the big towns and cities.  They get to know you personally and know their customers’ names and stories by heart.

Begha has no stores, so a weekly trip to Port Alfred, a 50 km drive, became a weekly highlight.  It normally ended with a visit to Lulu who provided us with tea, cakes and dinners to die for, but most of all she showered us with kindness and love.  Although she was still mourning the death of her beloved Wicus, it was with a smile and sometimes a tear, that she entertained us.

Virginia, another salt of the earth woman, known for being the best housekeeper in the world, is exactly that.  I will truly miss this lovely African lady with the big smile and an even bigger heart.

Cynthia and Peter and dear old Qeba all walked into my life for a couple of months.  I will look back and smile when I think of them.

Babs taught me so much.  Not only did she patiently guide me through  mosaic sessions, showed me the art of making glitter balls, or made slips from her plants, but most of all she taught me some important life lessons.  Knitting through the cold hours of winter and cuddled up with cups of homemade soup late at night, are all treasured memories I will take with me on my next journey to wherever that may be

Last, but not least, are Monique and Patch, the two four-legged members of the household.  I must admit I am not a dog lover, but the relationship between the three of us was a good one.  Patch, the lively one, full of zip and energy, belongs to all who visit Begha.   He is jovial, a professional socialite and a true gentleman, protecting his loved ones.  Even the local wild buck and playful monkeys were never allowed near the house. Patch acts like a real hero when defending his territory.

Monique, on the other hand, is the old lady with charisma and rheumatism. She moves slowly and gracefully, she eats unhurriedly and takes her old-age pills stylishly.  I have a feeling she is a bit of a snob.  Mixing with the working class and rowdy holiday visitors is just not her style.

I live by the saying “Nothing is permanent and this too shall pass” so,  the time has come to pack my bags, my memories and my boots and see in which direction the wind will take me.  I will leave my footprints here in Beautiful Begha, but I am taking back my memories and my soul.


Saludos Begha - Ciao for now.




GALLERY  More photos to follow.

Birah river

Sparky

Monique

Edith and Patch

Patch

Virginia

Babs

Backdoor monkeys

Mosaic

Cynthia

Babs

Lily

  

Back to the rat race.........

MY WEEMOEDS BANKIE

op Begha se walle

staan n weemoeds-bankie

vervalle, verstote

alleen in die wind

as ek verlang na my mense

my kinners en kind

as ek huil oor alleenwees

verward en verwoed

bring Begha se bankie

vrede en moed.

jk1497

VERDWAAL IS NIE VIR SPIETKOPS NIE

Nouja  die van julle wat my reputasie van verdwaal ken, sal hierdie storie maklik glo.  Die verdwaal-monster loop al donkie-jare saam met my.  Vroeer het dit my nogals ongemaklik laat voel, maar so met die koms van die ouderdom, het ek maar vrede gemaak met die feit dat ek nooit met die eerste probeerslag by my bestemming uitkom nie.  Ek ry altyd ‘n ompad, ‘n draai of ‘n onbekende roete. 

Genadiglik het tegnologie dit nou al vir my makliker gemaak, maar ek het n sterk vermoede dat ek die enigste mens op aarde is wat met die hulp van ‘n GPS nog maklik kan verdwaal.  Ek en Godzilla – soos myne gedoop is – misverstaan mekaar gereeld.

Maar die dag toe ek en Simon, Port Alfred se verkeersbeampte,  se paaie kruis, was by uitstek die mees opwindendste verdwaal  wat ek nog beleef het.

Vroe-more laai ek vir Vriendin by haar suster af en gaan winkels toe.  Die lysie is lank en my gedagtes beslis nie by padkaarte en roetes nie.  Toe ek dus met hande vol pakkies terug in my kar klim en besef Godzilla le by die huis, begin die sweet op my voorkop opdam en my asemhaling raak vlak.

Onwetend beland ek darem op die regte pad en moes net aanhou ry het – minder as ‘n halwe kilometer verder het Vriendin sit en wag.  Maar my oog vang die wit kar met die blou ligte  langs die pad onder n boom  en dit maak my sommer kalmer. Met ‘n verkeersbeampte se hulp kan dinge mos nie verkeerd gaan nie. 

Simon is die vriendelikste verkeersman wat ek nog teegekom het.  Hy glimlag van oor tot oor en se die saak is reg.  Hy ken die adres waarheen ek op pad is en ek moet hom volg.  Net daar maak ons ‘n U-draai en toe begin die sports.  Simon skakel al die blou ligte en sirenes aan en daar gaan ons.  By elke interseksie  stop hy met skreeuende remme in die middel van die pad, bring al die verkeer tot stilstand en laat my oorry, swaai dan vinnig weer voor my in en neem die leiding tot by die volgende interseksie. So al flitsende ry ons deur Port Alfred se hoofstraat en systrate. Nadat ons die dorp kruis en dwars deurreis het, beginne ek besef dat Simon besig is om die pad byster te raak, want ons vorder nie.

Hy stop in ‘n systraat en ek stop in die systraat en ons sit koppe bymekaar.  Al genade - toerisme kantoor toe met ons, sodat hulle kan help.

Daar gekom ontmoet ek nog meer vriendelike mense en hulle deel padkaarte uit en beduie, maar ek gooi wal en se “Nee gee die kaart vir Simon.  Hy ken die dorp en sal makliker ons weg vind” wetende dat ek nie ‘n kaart kan lees om my lewe te red nie.  Simon knik sy kop en se die saak is reg – nou weet hy presies waarheen ons moet ry. Kaart in die hand en ‘n spietkop wat jou lei kan dinge mos net goed gaan.  En daar gaan ons toe weer.

 

Hoofstraat op en systraat af, blou ligte en ‘n sirene of twee  om ‘n halstarrige motoris in sy spore te stuit.  Aanvanklik voel ek baie verlee, want die dorp het tot stilstand gekom en niemand weet presies wat aangaan nie. Gelukkig nie lank nie toe verander die verleentheid in ‘n gevoel van opgewondenheid en begin ek  voel soos pure 'Royalty.'  Ek kan amper nie glo wat besig is om te gebeur nie en besluit daar en dan om tog net ‘n steel fototjie op my selfoon te neem.

Maar nog is die einde egter nie, want Simon kan ook nie ‘n kaart lees nie en ons verdwaal weer in ons peetjie in.  Gelukkig besef Simon hy sal nou sy eer op een of ander manier moet probeer herstel en stop langs ‘n ou tante wat padlangs loop.  Simon spring uit en ek spring uit en versoek vriendelik dat sy vir my ook verduidelik, want lyk my nie ek gaan vandag met Simon regkom nie.

Sy verduidelik baie mooi, soos net ‘n vrou van haar jare kan verduidelik, en daar gaan ek en Simon weer vir n derde keer. Hoofstraat op en systraat af, blou ligte, sirene of twee en 'n spierwitte handskoen  wat hy gebruik om die verkeer te stop. Hierdie keer lyk die pad egter bekend en ons vorder in die regte rigting.

Na baie lank kom ons uiteindelik by my bestemming aan, waar almal al dood bekommerd wag en wonder.  Almal het darem my Simon-Storie baie geniet en boonop geglo, want verdwaal die kan ek en dit is geen geheim nie.

Moet se ek en Simon is nou BFF's. (Best Friends Forever). Hy het vreeslik verskoning gevra met ‘n yslike Eish!! Miskien tyd dat Simon sy eie Godzilla kry.

Darkness

no sense of direction

 just surrounded by sound

vain conceit 

and wasted  passions

forever in the past

turmoil  in the mind

and devastation in the heart

guilt and remorse

with no one to blame

left in the dark

solitude and  repentance

is all that is left

shattered eyes

and empty phrases

with no one to impress

06042014jk

THE LAST LEG

A trip that took me 2 months in which I covered approximately 5000 kilometres was nearing its end and I was preparing for the last part of the first leg of my journey-to-nowhere.  Little did I know what role the word leg would play in my life over the next couple of days.

                

The distance between Douglas in the Northern Cape and Port Elizabeth in the Eastern Cape is approximately 760 kilometre and took me through small towns like Hopetown, Strydenburg, De Aar, Hanover, Middelburg and the beautiful landscapes near Cradock. 

One of the many farm stalls I stopped at

I arrived in Port Elizabeth late on a Friday afternoon and knew I was ‘home’ the moment I saw the dolosse (harbour walls) so characteristic of Port Elizabeth.  Dolosse (knuckle bones), were developed in 1963 by an East London Harbour Engineer, Eric Merrifield, and won him various awards.  Aubrey Kruger, a colleague of Merrifield, later claimed that it was his design, but he never got any recognition.  A dolos is a concrete block, geometrically shaped and weighing up to 30 tons.  It is now used worldwide to create a barrier between the land and the ocean.

                               

Ben and Wendy, my hosts for the next two weeks, were expecting me and I was welcomed into their home with heartfelt joy and love.  I could not have asked for a better place to stay while in Port Elizabeth.  Their hospitality knows no boundaries.  I had carte blanche to their fridge, their home and their generosity.  Wendy likes to laugh and talk and so do I.  Friends, that allow you to enjoy your early morning coffee with them on their double bed, while still dressed in your pj's, are beyond compare. Bennie has a wonderful sense of humour and an insatiable craving for chocolates.  Their beautiful Siamese cat is of course the centre of attention and a real ‘beauty queen’.

Being naturally gregarious, I could not pass the opportunity to spend time and to have lunch with my ex-boss and ex-colleagues, Steve, Ines, Robyn, Wendy and to chat and catch up with all the other girls and guys I used to work with.  That was truly priceless!.  It was so good to meet up with old friends like Lourens, but sadly I missed Mona his wife, as she was still at work.  Seeing Karen, Hilton, Marinda and Andre as well, made me realise how meagre my life would be without individuals such as these.

My  ‘camp’ people did not disappoint either.  Meeting Nenna at her new workplace brought tears to my eyes.  My hard work of 12 years finally paid off.  2014 started well for most of them as they obtained jobs at the new developments in the area.  Unemployment is one of the biggest obstacles they have to overcome.  Once employed, their self-worth is rebuilt and the morale, not only their own, but also those around them, becomes so confidently optimistic.

Food for the soul, at its best, is spending an evening in the company of Sandra and sharing a bottle of good wine. It was just what the doctor ordered!  Topics of discussion varied from lost love, the pros and cons of having or not having a lover and the challenges we have to face as so called senior citizens (not that she qualifies to be a senior citizen yet).  We talked about our failures of the past, the challenges of the now and the mysteries of our futures.  

An afternoon spent in the company of Ines, my good-looking Italian friend, and her Mom, is sheer joy. Calling me Giovanna, like only an Italian can, sends shivers down my spine.  Ines, like me, is a true Cancerian and we understand our fluctuating moods all too well.   Barefoot, with pizzas to nibble on and glasses of refreshing pomegranate juice, the minutes turned into hours and before I knew it night was upon us and it was time for me to leave with sadness yet again.  My ‘Vrienkie’ (little friend) for life! 

                                                                                   

Long coastal drives, lingering at familiar places and all-time favourite spots and discovering new jewels, left my wandering soul in a mystical state.  The enchanted world of rock and surf at Seaview (the small coastal village I once called home), Maitland, with its seemingly never ending beaches, Kini Bay’s charisma and allure and the serenity that enfolds Kragga Kamma are all fascinating impressions that will last me a life-time and bring me back to this beautiful part of South Africa time and again.

A visit to one of South Africa’s award-winning writers, Annelie Botes, was like having my cake and eating it too.  After an absence of many years she started writing again in 1994 and has since published more than 50 short stories and novellas.  She has won many awards and is also a very popular guest speaker.

Another acquaintance in Port Elizabeth is Anet.  She and I are still new friends, but in the short time she’s been in my life, it has been a bundle of cookies and joy.  We spent an afternoon in the beautiful lounge at the Boardwalk (hotel and casino complex), sipping tea and enjoying delectable sandwiches, with the cacophony of slot machines off in the background.  There was much reminiscing and catching up while enjoying the sights.  The Boardwalk is a vibrant symbol of South Africa's emerging modern market economy and the ever-rising standards for architecture and building construction.  It is a far cry from the colonial architecture that can be seen all over Port Elizabeth.

Marinthia and Louis welcomed me into their home, a place where one can find exquisite art, eat fabulous fusion food, experience a sun that puts sparkle in the morning and a night that starts with a startling silence. But, their home is also a melting pot of animals.  Great Danes, a Weimaraner, a pint-sized cheeky lap-dog, aristocratic Bengal cats, adorable donkeys, a snow white pony, meerkats ( Suricate, a small mammal belonging to the mongoose family), birds, geese and chickens, to name but a few.  Marinthia and Louis truly give real meaning to the word animal-lover.  Spending time with Marinthia compares well to having a dark chocolate Magnum (a gourmet ice-cream) for breakfast.  It is always delectably splendid to share some time with her!  Making the transition from her being my boss a couple of years back to becoming one of my best friends came easily enough.  It is undeniably a friendship I truly treasure.

The morning of my departure came all too soon and waving Wendy and Bennie goodbye in the early hours of the morning, was not an easy task.  Never did I feel the urge to turn back so strongly

A quick pit-stop in Joubertina, where a dear friend, Merle lives, came at the right time.  Joubertina is a small town hidden halfway down the 190 kilometre Langkloof  (long gorge) and is overlooked by a mountain peak named Formosa (1675m), the highest point in the Tsitsikamma mountains. It has majestic tranquillity written all over it.  It somehow reflects Merle’s calm and humble personality.  A hidden treasure per se!

Little did I know what misery was on its way when I left Joubertina in the heat of the day.  I was heading for my next stop, Nautilus Bay, when a little discomfort in my knee turned into an excruciating pain and it seemed like a merciless warning that this leg of my journey was not going to be a joy-ride.

The route from Port Elizabeth to Nautilus Bay, a coastal reserve with panoramic sea views, took me through some of the most beautiful parts of South Africa.  It was good to see that some areas are still untouched by mass tourism.  I could not help but stop ever so often to appreciate the fairy tale scenes and to marvel at the beauty that surrounded me.  It was rainy and foggy when I reached the peak of the Outeniqua pass and the visibility was poor which gave it an almost supernatural ambience. It was fascinating to observe the scene as I was descending, leaving the majestic mountain behind and heading for the coast.

Finally reaching Nautilus Bay, I went directly to the home of Stephanie and Henk.  And although I had to spend the evening on crutches, bandages and painkillers, the time spent with Stephanie and Henk, was worth all the discomfort.  Stephanie’s cuisine, Henk’s wine, the ocean as a backdrop and the stories and laughter in between, brought us to midnight and way beyond.  Unfortunately I had to cut my visit short, as I knew I was in trouble with my knee, but not before enjoying a most refreshing breakfast, a last view of an azure Indian Ocean and being mesmerized by the riches of my surroundings.

I was welcomed in Cape Town by my caring kids and family after a very long and exhausting trip.  It was good to feel Missy’s arms around me, it was good to catch up on all the gossip of the past weeks, heavenly to sleep in my thirty-year old bed  and to cuddle up with Neara and Shika my pet snakes.  My wandering soul and sensual passions will have to back off for a while.  My knee needs a rest and my health has to be my first priority.  But, I continue to reassure myself that nothing is permanent and this too shall pass.  For the present my trip to Namibia will have to stay on ice. Eish!  I look forward to resuming my journey to nowhere.

The word Eish! is used in South Africa to express exasperation or disbelief.  The word was first transliterated from the Xhosa language to Afrikaans and then to English.


GALLERY

Dolosse

With Bennie

With Wendy

Tessa the pure-bred.

Andre and Marinda

Ines, with her brother and mother

Kite surfer at Maitland

Maitland

Pollock Beach Port Elizabeth

Anet

Marinthia's donkeys

Great Dane

Marinthia feeding the meerkat

Between Joubertina in the Eastern Cape
and George in the Western Cape

A wind-farm situated between
Jeffreys Bay and Humansdorp

Aerial view Joubertina
Photo courtesy of Joubertina Tourism

Hops

Street scene Joubertina

Near Nautilus Bay

View Point Outeniqwa

Tired and sore

Sandra

Stephanie and Henk

With Stephanie

POTHOLES AND BYWAYS

Farewells are never easy, especially when you are having a good time with friends and family.  I left Sasolburg early on a Wednesday morning with two sad faces waving me goodbye.  I must admit it took me a couple of kilometers to regain my composure, wipe the tears and concentrate on the road ahead of me.  Unfortunately, saying goodbye is the not-so-good part of my journey-to-nowhere. 

My journey to nowhere

As I was leaving the Vaal Triangle behind, I realized once again that the hustle and bustle of city life is not for me.  I was heading for a small town in the Northern Cape Province where another lifelong friend was waiting for my arrival. 

The town is situated 120 km southwest of Kimberley, the capital of the Northern Cape Province.  Douglas is a green jewel, situated on the banks of the Orange and Vaal Rivers, midst the dry and parched land of the Northern Cape Province.  This is, of course, one of the most arid regions of South Africa. 

The town was named after Sir Robert Percy Douglas, a Lieutenant Governor of the Cape Colony.  It was founded in 1848 as a mission station by Rev. Isaac Hughes and declared a town in 1867 after an agreement was reached by a group of Europeans.

Glacial pavements and rock engravings dating back 300 million years, can still be found 10 km outside Douglas on the road to Prieska.  Diamonds were discovered in the 19th century and  the 'diamond rush' brought thousands of diggers to the area.  Diggers' houses or "delwershuisies" were a common sight in that time, but today only a few can still be seen. 

From the day I left Cape Town I deliberately avoided the popular national roads as much as possible and rather wandered off to the roads less traveled.  Unfortunately, these roads are not always in a good condition and, at one point, I really wondered why I do it to myself.  Luckily the landscapes, the locals and the stories make up for all the potholes, the trucks and the dust. 

These two hills are known  as the Tietkoppe (breast hills) and situated 20 kilometers outside Kimberley on the road to Douglas

The road to Douglas took me through the Free State Province which is suffering a very severe drought.  In small towns like Wesselsbron, Bothaville, Boshoff and Hertzogville  heartbreaking stories are told of farmers who already lost all or most of their crops.  These are crops that feed a nation.  Little did I know at that stage that it was going to rain not long after I left that area.

I stumbled upon a charming little Padstal (farm-stall), Ma-ki-tys,  (make yourself at home) which is situated just outside Hertzogville.  Farm stalls in South Africa usually consist of a coffee shop or a full-service restaurant and feature homemade baked goods, local wines and fresh farm-grown fruits and vegetables.  The moment I walked into Ma-ki-tys I  was immediately impressed by the detailed and careful restoration work done to the stall.  I was treated like an old friend and it sure felt like home.  Mariaan, the daughter of the owner of the farm stall, handed-down valuable information and especially, how the drought has affected the people and the land.  In an area where most of the inhabitants are farmers (maize, wheat, sheep and cattle) the weather plays a vital role in their daily existence.  This area is deservedly referred to as the bread-basket of South Africa. 

The Padstal

The Padstal

Hertzogville was named after South Africa's longest-serving Prime Minister, James Barry Munnik Hertzog and was established in 1915 on the site of the Donkerfontein farm.  One of the historical curiosities about the place is that the town could only be built on the condition that no hotel would be allowed in the town site for 100 years.

Although I wanted to spend more time in the company of the friendly Mariaan, my journey had to continue.

I arrived in Douglas hungry, hot and exhausted, but the joyful reunion with dear friends made up for the little discomfort I had on the road. 

My KitKat lunch in a car with no aircon and 40C.

Hes and Frik are the kind of friends you definitely want on your list of best friends.  Words to describe them, fail me. Hes and I have been friends since primary school days and together we 'conquered' the challenges of life.  Now, in the glow of our golden years, we regret our disappointments and failures and we celebrate the victories of the past. 

With Hes at The Nose

Hes and Frik at the Nose

With Frikkie

Frikkie has a wonderful sense of humor and is a bit of a trickster.  But he is most definitely a friend through thick and thin.  He is also a 'master' chef and after some bantering he willingly shared a few of his secret recipes with me such as his famous Marmite Bread which I have permission  to publish on my blog. 

Marmite Bread

 As I said, Frikkie can be a trickster.  He insisted we visit the local delwershuisie, (a digger's  small house) situated on the outskirts of Douglas the next morning, as well as pay a visit to the place where the two 'Mommas' (the Vaal and Orange rivers) meet.

That morning as we drove off on our outing I was looking forward to seeing the delwershuisie as I do have an interest in buildings dating back hundreds of years.  To my surprise Frikkie stopped in front of an impressively large and spacious complex situated on the hectare-sized property with buildings of 5-star status consisting of a mansion, designer horse stables (home to million dollar horses), expensive cars in the driveways and lush landscaped gardens.  Taken as a whole, such things spell only one thing: Wealth.!

The only connection between this plush property and a humble delwershuisie is that both structures have occupied the same land and both are part of the history of diamonds in South Africa.  In a sense the present structure, a private home, is a sort of delwershuis, but only because of its present owner's involvement in the diamond industry.  Of course, taking me there was just Frikkie's way of playing yet another trick on me.

We then traveled to the spot where the two rivers (the Orange and the Vaal) meet.  Die Neus (The Nose) as it is colloquially known.  Tranquility is written all over this special spot on earth.  The guard and caretaker, Izak, has been part of the park for many years and who better to get first hand information from.  His knowledge is remarkable and he gave us a 'colorful' description of the floods in 1988 and the trail of destruction it left behind.

Orange River

Vaal River

The confluence

This fertile piece of land, which is home to hundreds of birds and plenty of fresh water fish in both rivers, lush vineyards that grow on the banks of the rivers and an abundant wildlife all around, makes you want to return to Douglas over and over again.

Unfortunately this wine lover did not visit the Douglas Wine Cellar, but luckily there was no shortage of this region's wonderful wines at the local liquor stores.  I could, of course, not leave Douglas without a red and white Landzicht in the boot of my car.

It was again with sadness that I left my friends behind, but my journey-to-nowhere was far from over.

I have attempted retirement more than once now without success and plan to return to the workplace soon.  I promised myself when I'm old and grey and the memory frail I want to share a rocking bench with Hes and Frikkie.  We will sip our Landzichts and ponder the past and muse over the days long gone by; those days when we still had our own teeth,  no hearing aids or stainless steel walking aides.

FRIKKIE’S MARMITE BREAD RECIPE

YOU WILL NEED:

          One batch of ready-made bread dough (it’s readily available in South
         Africa in supermarkets and food stores and I’m sure most countries have
         the same, alternatively you can make your own bread dough from
         scratch)

          250ml. Fresh Cream

          2 Tablespoons Marmite  (I know Marmite is not available in all    
          countries, but  I am sure you will find something similar in your stores.)

          Form dough into equal size balls and place in buttered cast iron pot. Let 
          is rise till double in size.  Mix Marmite and cream and pour over bread 
          rolls.  Bake in preheated oven 180C for 45 minutes or until golden brown.